


Our Story Was Not Told

by AndreaLyn



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-05
Updated: 2012-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-03 01:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's getting tired of Danny's girlfriends not appreciating what they have. When the newest one shows up at the workplace, Steve decides to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Story Was Not Told

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from a Mumford & Sons song. Much thanks to iam_space for the wonderful beta!

**Subject: Would it kill you to write?**

I realize that you’re Mister Busy with all this crime-solving (what is it, a hundred and three solved cases, now?) but it’s been three weeks since we talked. I realize that it’s a modern age, but emails don’t exactly cut it. Relationships need more than that to thrive, dear Daniel. Call me, would you? I miss you and, ps, I love you. 

-Betsy

 

 

**Subject: re: Would it kill you to write?**

Yes, Betsy. It very well might kill me. You know me so well. For your information, I’m working a double homicide and Steve’s in the middle of trying to kill me – so, you know, nothing new under the sun. You’ll have to forgive me for not taking the time out of my busy day to sit down and have phone calls and write emails about the little things. Let’s make it quick: Grace is fine, I’m fine, I miss you too, I love you too, and we don’t see each other enough. This long-distance thing is pretty shitty, huh?

I gotta go. Steve’s yelling at me. Apparently there’s a third murder and if I don’t get out there, the world’s going to collapse.

D.

 

**Subject: re: Would it kill you to write?**

Wow, this Steve sounds like a real gem. Is this the guy that you keep talking about? Tall, dark, and gorgeous? 

-Betsy

 

**Subject: re: Would it kill you to write?**

I’m pretty sure you added the gorgeous. 

D.

 

**Subject: re: Would it kill you to write?**

Maybe I did, but it’s not exactly like I’m going to pretend I don’t hear it. Don’t worry, Daniel, I still think you’re the most gorgeous of them all, you don’t have to worry. I’m still biased. We’re still on for our plans, right? You and me on the coastal shores enjoying the sun and the sand and the water? Well, I’ll be enjoying all those things. You can sit back and bitch about them while I wear my cute new swimsuit. I’ll give you a call when I land. See you soon, babe.

-Betsy

* * *

Steve’s not snooping. He’s not. He’s resolutely only in Danny’s e-mail folder because there’s a copy of an email he needs for an upcoming court case and Danny had waved a hand, said ‘I’m not doing it, get it yourself’, and this is how they’ve arrived at this situation.

Steve’s been sitting at Danny’s desk for the last half an hour. He can’t stop staring at the screen and the dozens (and dozens) of e-mails in Danny’s account from some woman – none of them dating back older than six months ago. Danny’s been happier lately and Steve had, stupidly, thought that maybe it was his influence.

How wrong he’d been. 

There are whole reams of emails from some woman named _Betsy_ and each one is more incriminating than the last. She talks about Danny like she’s known (and liked) him for a long time and Grace is a regular topic. Steve had no idea that Danny had time to find someone to be so serious about and he can’t lie – he’s a little disappointed that Danny didn’t tell them about her.

There are other things he’s disappointed over, but he chooses not to focus on the fact that he’s missed his window of opportunity. The emails are still on his mind when he takes the papers out to the main room.

“Where’s Danny?” is Steve’s first question. He’d been right there, but now all that’s left is a cold cup of coffee and no Danny. Steve’s slightly relieved because he’s got copies of the emails from this Betsy in the stack of papers, but at the same time, he’d wanted to address the issue head-on and find out just how serious the relationship was.

He wanted to know if he still had a shot. 

It felt like Danny was jumping from woman to woman between Rachel and Gabby and this Betsy, but none of them seemed to understand just what a catch they had. Danny was – is -- the best thing that Steve’s ever had in his life and if they were dating, he wouldn’t let Danny out of his sight, let alone divorce him or date him casually or let him move across the country.

Steve knows that he’d spoil Danny with only the best. He’d take care of him. He’d prod him into arguments to keep things exciting and then enjoy making up for every fight that he’d spurred him into.

Really, Steve would make it so that Danny never strayed from his life, not ever. 

He gets so distracted thinking about how he’d make sure to take care of Danny’s _every_ need that he almost misses the expectant look from Chin. “…Steve?”

“What? I’m listening,” he insists guiltily, trying not to let it show that he’d been thinking of how he could bend Danny over the table, yank his pants down until they were pooled around his ankles, and gag his mouth with one of his favorite ties before fucking Danny until he screamed. The way Kono and Lori are looking at him says that Steve hasn’t exactly managed to get the Navy SEAL expressionless mask up fast enough. 

“You okay, boss?” Kono asks, exchanging a glance with Lori as if they’re trying to figure out whether it’s worth diving into this can of worms.

Steve checks left, looks right, makes sure Danny isn’t anywhere nearby, and then he pulls out the incriminating evidence. “Did you guys know that Danny’s _seeing_ someone?” He waves the papers around like a weapon, catching small snippets of phrasing – this one is talking about how good Danny smells. He’s faintly aware that it evokes something very similar to his aneurysm face at just the sight of it. 

“Didn’t hear that, boss. Are you sure?” Kono replies.

“Whoever she is, he’s keeping her from us. That’s not right, why would he…”

Steve shuts up in a hurry when the front door is pulled open and Danny walks back in carrying a tray of coffee and tea. He disperses them to the sound of total silence, handing Steve’s tea to him last. He lingers in his space, long enough that Steve gets a smell of Danny’s hair-gel and the aftershave he’s using. 

Betsy’s right. 

Danny smells _incredible_. Steve stays in his personal bubble probably too long, but he’d stopped caring the minute he found those emails. It’s a sign that he needs to be way more into the game if he wants to come home with first place. Steve takes the tea with one hand, lightly resting his other on Danny’s shoulder, sliding his thumb over the pulse of his neck.

“Babe,” Danny murmurs, in a throaty and unbelievably sexy way. “What’re you doing?”

“I can’t say thanks for getting the tea?” he asks, squaring his hips so he’s blocking the table, assuming that the others know him well enough to know that he wants them to disperse of the emails lying around in plain sight. “What do we live in, the outlands?”

“Okay, well, ‘thank you’ is a nice way of doing it,” Danny offers. “Returning the favor, also nice. You’re kind of groping me, Steven. Not that you’re not good at it, but it’s sort of jumping the gun a little. It’s just tea.”

“You don’t get appreciated enough, Danno,” is Steve’s reply when he finally gets the wind back in him enough to speak. “You deserve it.”

“…okay, Steve’s gone crazy, where are you with the suspects?” Danny turns his attention to the rest of the team.

Steve’s going to prove to Danny that he’s the horse to bet on. He’s not going to stop at anything to prove that Danny doesn’t need to be looking back to the mainland for someone to appreciate and love him. He’s got that right here, under his nose.

* * *

And then, it happens:

“Hey, guys! Steve, get in here! Chin, Kono! Lori, quit whatever you’re doing and come here!” Danny’s shouting from the break room and it’s never a good sign when he does that. Steve glances up from his cup of tea and sees a beautiful blonde woman standing at Danny’s side, taller than him by a good three inches (which is probably the red heels). 

\--and really, who wears red heels in the middle of the day? Steve tries to dismiss that catty voice in the back of his head. There’s no proof that this is the woman, _the_ woman, so he shouldn’t be thinking such cruel thoughts about her. 

“Whoa, Danny, where’s the fire?” Kono asks, softly laughing as she joins him in the room. 

Steve swallows down his acute jealousy at the way Danny presses a hand to the small of the woman’s back so delicately and carefully, like she’s the most important thing in the world. He reminds himself that he missed his chance and if Danny’s ever single again, his loud-mouthed partner isn’t going to know what hit him. 

“Guys,” Danny says, practically rocking back and forth on his heels. “Guys, I want you to meet someone special, someone so incredibly smart and talented and beautiful,” he continues, every additional adjective like a damn rusty spear in Steve’s side. He tries not to flinch, plastering a smile on his face.

He regrets what he does next – he wishes he hadn’t done it.

That regret, though, doesn’t come until later. At the time, all Steve can focus on is the way the woman keeps pressing kisses to Danny’s cheek and how Danny keeps grinning and laughing in that carefree way that only Grace and _Steve_ can manage to get out of him. 

“Danny,” he interrupts him. “I’m glad that you’re happy and you’re bringing your personal life to work, but we still have that murder to solve and I’m pretty sure that won’t happen without us on the streets. Crime doesn’t exactly stop for beautiful and intelligent and talented,” he says, shooting a terse smile at the woman he assumes to be Betsy. 

Danny, as expected, starts to go volcanic about two seconds after Steve speaks.

Steve drifts over to his side, wraps a hand around his bicep and pulls him forcibly away. “C’mon,” he says. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover. I don’t want to be on the streets into the early hours of the night, babe.”

He doesn’t miss the way Betsy mouths ‘babe’ at Danny, but Steve doesn’t have time to focus on that. “Steven,” Danny says, utterly calm and dangerously and deceptively placid. “Not now.”

“Daniel, as your commanding officer; _yes_ , now,” Steve replies, lifting himself to his full height. “Miss, I’ll have Danny back to you later tonight.” Much, _much_ later if he can help it. He only chances one look across the room, but when he does, he can see Kono and Lori glaring at him disapprovingly and Chin is actually shaking his head, pinching the bridge of his nose like he can’t believe Steve. Honestly, Steve can’t even believe himself. He’s not sure why, but jealousy has always turned him into a horrifying and pale shadow of himself. This time is no different. 

In fact, this time might be worse because of how much Danny means to him.

He grabs hold of Danny’s wrist and forcibly frog marches him out the door, not stopping until they reach the Camaro. Danny looks like he’s actually going to explode, which Steve should be more concerned about, but he’s not. He can breathe again, he feels like he isn’t about to burst because he’s watching Danny fawn over some other woman, and he’s got Danno with him for the whole day.

“I swear to god,” Danny exhales, pointing in Steve’s direction. “You and I are gonna have a long talk about manners. You are just so damn lucky that I actually like you a little, otherwise I wouldn’t even hesitate for a second before I pushed you off the top of Diamondhead.”

Steve pauses, hand on the steering wheel. “You like me?”

“Don’t get excited,” Danny mutters, buckling himself into the car. “I’m fairly sure it’s the Stockholm Syndrome, because if your performance back there is any indication, it’s definitely not your winning personality.”

Steve feels like he’s going to hell for what he did and what came after, but it’s not all him. Their murder suspects keep them running around the island on a wild goose chase until nearly three in the morning. By the time Steve brings the Camaro back around to Danny’s hotel suite, he’s _exhausted_ and can’t actually remember where he parked his truck.

“Can I…”

“No,” Danny cuts him off swiftly.

Steve’s eyes widen in disbelief as he shoots Danny an angry look. “You didn’t even know what I was about to say!” he says. “What the hell, Danny?”

“After your little caveman display earlier? Steven, I swear to god, you don’t deserve manners,” Danny mutters, unbuckling his seatbelt in a hurry. He’s as tired as Steve is, though, because he makes a mess of it, fumbling with the strap as it gets caught and tangled in his lap. He curses under his breath and Steve’s exhaustion convinces him that it’s a good idea to reach across and slide his palm over Danny’s thigh, turning and twisting the belt until it snaps back. Danny’s gone quiet, now, and Steve slides his hand over the other thigh, wanting to see the size disparity and think about how it’d look without the barrier of clothing between them.

_God_ , he’s exhausted.

“Steve,” Danny protests, sounding strangled.

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this. I know your girlfriend is right upstairs and I know I shouldn’t have kept you out this late, but…Danno, I got jealous, okay? It’s not like you’re perfect, either. I mean, when Nick came to town, you kind of acted like he’d knocked me up and then left.”

Danny’s got a pinched look on his face, lips pressed together hard. Steve realizes, belatedly, that he’s trying not to laugh.

“Fine, bad example,” Steve says. “But I’m serious, Danny. I was jealous. You keep picking relationships where people don’t appreciate what they have. I know I give you hell some of the time -- ”

“ _All_ of the time.”

“-- _some_ of the time,” Steve echoes his own words. “But the truth is that I love you, babe. Ergo,” he adds, just to see the way Danny’s face lights up with a genuine smile. “It kind of pisses me off when you trot out new girlfriends under my nose and they can’t even be bothered to move the distance here to be with you. Clearly, she has no idea what she has.”

“Okay, well, first of all, this is not validating your caveman behavior,” Danny clarifies. “But, Steve. Yes, she does know what she has.”

Steve can _feel_ his brow folding into a dozen small furrows. “Danny, she lives five thousand miles away, she lives in New Jersey! You talk, like, once a week.”

“Yes, and I never hear the end of it,” Danny agrees. “Steve, listen to me. Okay? Stop, stop for a minute, just one minute. Are you listening? Are your prehistoric ears open?”

There’s a long pause and Steve makes a face when he realizes that Danny is _actually_ waiting for confirmation. “Yes, yes, Danny, I’m listening. Would you just talk to me before I fall asleep in the hotel parking lot? I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted, I just want to go to bed.”

“Okay, now, shut up. Betsy _Williams_ is my _sister_ , you grenade-happy, tear-gas-breathing maniac,” Danny seems to be taking delight with every name he’s calling Steve. “My sister! She is my sister who lives five thousand miles away and came to visit me, only for my Neanderthal partner to grab my arm and practically throw me over his shoulder on the way out the door. You think she hasn’t already called my mother with that? You think there aren’t pictures?”

“Sister?” Steve replies weakly, a horrifying feeling of dread settling in his stomach.

“Sister!”

That’s _not_ what Steve had been expecting. Suddenly, his alpha-male display goes from something that could prove his claim on Danny to being a way for Danny’s family to disapprove of him. Steve must look absolutely horrified, because Danny reaches over with a palm, cupping Steve’s face, and laughs. He keeps laughing and laughing, to the point that Steve’s finding this all a bit rude.

“Shouldn’t your stomach hurt or something?” Steve asks, folding his arms over his chest – even if he has to avoid the steering wheel to make the point.

“You thought I had the hots for my sister,” Danny says. “Which is adorable and somehow, it makes sense, given that your brain is a feeding ground for the most insane of thoughts. My sister! Steven, was that little possessive display earlier because of Bets?”

Steve mumbled his response under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said,” Steve says, enunciating his words as he looks up. “It might have been.”

“Well, you can rest easy. Apart from one very awkward and strange kiss she and I shared on a dare when we were kids, I’m really not into my sister like that.” Danny still looks amused, but Steve can’t get past the other part – the one where he just told Danny how he felt. It’s out there in the open, now, and Danny hasn’t actually said anything about it. 

“Hey. Your hotel suite must be pretty small for the two of you,” Steve says, trying to edge away from the panic of Danny possibly rejecting him. If he can get the Williams clan as close as possible, he can, at least, make it harder for them to run. “Tomorrow, after she wakes up, bring her by my house. We’ll set up the guest rooms.”

“Rooms? As in, plural rooms?” Danny says. 

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well, you did just say you love me,” Danny points out. There’s a smile building on his face and, in turn, it’s making Steve feel pretty relaxed about the fact that he might just get his way, this time. “I’m not saying I’m ready for you to bend me over like a gymnast, but I kind of thought maybe I could graduate up from the couch and see if I can’t sleep in your bed. I mean, I assume your steady SEAL breathing is the perfect white noise. Well, or your snoring.”

“I don’t snore.”

“You snore. You snore these snuffling little noises--”

“I don’t snore! I breathe deeply, maybe you just don’t know because you’re fixating on the ocean…”

The truth is, they might have continued arguing like that for a _lot_ longer if not for the part where Danny closes the distance between them, grabs Steve by the hair, and yanks him in for a possessive kiss. If Steve thought he was marking his ground this morning, he’s an amateur when it comes to claiming displays, because Danny’s an expert and Steve doesn’t even want to begin to dissuade him away from it. 

When Steve eases back, he’s grinning like an idiot, but he can’t find it in him to protest. “Tomorrow. My place. Danny, be there.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, babe.”

* * *

Betsy still hasn’t managed to get over the time difference. Jet lag has been kicking her ass up and down the island, so when she wakes up and discovers that it’s eleven in the morning, she isn’t even surprised. She’s grateful that after their initial meeting, Steve McGarrett didn’t turn out to be half the asshole he seemed – staying in his guest room is really the cherry on top of that unexpected sundae. 

She yawns as she trudges downstairs, tugging her house robe tighter around her waist as she takes every step heavily, wondering if Danny’s left her any breakfast – since he _promised_ to make her pancakes to make up for not seeing her at all yesterday – apparently, he wasn’t kidding when he said he barely found time for himself. She’s been there two days and she’s seen him for all of maybe two hours.

There are no pancakes on the stove – no breakfast started at all. “Unbelievable,” she mutters, getting the milk out of the fridge as she resigns herself to cold cereal since her brother is a lying scumbag.

She rubs at her eyes, trying to edge out the last of the sleep there while pulling open the pantry door. Steve seems like the kind of guy who’d have an oat or grain cereal lurking around, but Betsy doesn’t find just cereal, oh _no_.

She clears her throat to get the attention of her brother and the Navy SEAL that Danny’s currently trying to invade by way of his tongue. She smiles politely when they separate, babbling excuses, looking flushed, and generally a kind of adorable she doesn’t usually associate with her brother.

Betsy smiles sleepily and reaches past Steve’s bare torso for the box of cereal, shaking it the once. “Good morning,” she greets pleasantly. “I’m just here for this,” she says, easing back and closing the pantry door on them.

After about thirty seconds, she opens it again to find the boys going at it again – Danny’s leg thrown around Steve’s waist in a way that suggests she did not realize how flexible her brother could be (also, _ew_ ). Betsy flicks on the light, presses one hand on her hip, and shakes her head. 

“Betsy,” Danny complains, while Steve is busy tugging on his lower lip with his teeth. “What? What do you want?”

“I just wanted to let you know that if you don’t tell Mom about this, I’m telling her you got married without informing her,” she says, shaking the cereal at him like a baby rattle. “Okay?” she adds, perkily. “Okay. You can resume exploring the wild McGarrett lands.” She shuts the door behind her, a smug smile on her face.

And, really, breakfast to the sound of Danny and Steve having a whispered conversation about what Mrs. Williams will do to them is possibly the best soundtrack she could ask for. One thing’s absolutely sure, though: she’s _definitely_ going to get pancakes out of Danny before the visit’s done.


End file.
